“A boat’s a good thing to have,” Pod said. “Worth money. But why bring it here, where so many people want to take it away from you?”
Will stared at Pod, an uncomfortable feeling trickling down his spine. “We needed to find Spinner,” he said.
“What if you don’t find him?”
The uncomfortable feeling was spreading, expanding. It was doubt. “We’ll find him,” he said. “I know we will.”
Pod fell silent. Will wished he would go away and stop asking him questions.
After a while, Pod spoke again. “I don’t remember my dad. Had plenty of bosses. Don’t miss them much.” He laughed then, a slightly scary laugh. “One day, though, I want to find my sister.”
Will looked at him, unable to see much of his expression in the starlight. “Yeah?”
“Find that floating palace. Get her back.”
“How would you do that?”
“Don’t know how. But someday.”
The Blue Room
For a skinny boy, Pod had a big appetite. With four of them aboard (plus Graham, of course) they had begun to run low on food much sooner than Essie had anticipated. “Perhaps he’s making up for lost time,” she said, when she brought the problem to Will and Annalie’s attention.
“We’re going to have to find somewhere to take on more supplies,” Will said.
They gathered around the sat nav to check the charts and plan a course change.
“What about here?” Will said, naming a small group of islands to the south.
“Don’t go that way,” Pod said. “There’s pirates down there.”
Will pointed to another set of islands, further off course but still within striking distance. “What about here? Know anything about these ones?”
Pod shook his head, but Annalie brightened.
“Oh!” she said. “That’s where the Blue Room used to be!”
The Blue Room was a famous sea cave on Kapa Island. The only way into it was via the sea, through a small opening that would admit a rowboat, but nothing bigger. Inside it was said the water glowed with a beautiful, slightly eerie blue light, which flooded in from a much larger hole below the waterline. Before the Flood the Blue Room had been a famous tourist attraction, and people had flocked there and lined up for hours for a chance to row in and out and see the blue water glow.
“I thought it was all underwater now,” Will said.
“I’m sure it is,” Annalie said sadly. “Still the chart says there’s a town there. We have to go somewhere, may as well go there!”
They changed course and sailed for Kapa Island. Kapa was quite a substantial island, one of a group of three that had had a long and varied history: inhabited by cannibals, valued and fought over for its spices, annexed by one colonial ruler after another, until it became part of the international tourist trade, when there still was such a thing. Now it was quiet, isolated by the Moon Islands’ dangerous reputation, its water supply damaged by salt.
They reached Kapa and sailed down the famous coastline, where a few old billboards still clung to the cliffs, pointing the way to the Blue Room and announcing the names of long-vanished bars and restaurants.
“I wish I could have seen it,” Annalie said wistfully.
“Me too,” Will said. “Remember that bit in Three for the Sea where they go there and find treasure?”
Three for the Sea was Will’s favorite book, one of the few he could be bothered reading all the way to the end.
“Don’t go getting ideas,” Annalie said, with a grin.
They sailed a little further.
“I reckon we’re getting close now,” Will said, watching the signs. “Reckon if you put a mask on you could dive down and find the entrance?”
“That sounds like a really bad idea,” Annalie said.
“Wait a minute,” Will said. “Maybe we don’t need a mask.”
A sign had been newly painted directly onto the cliff above the sea. It said:
The Blue Room
Visiting hours change daily
Inquire at Kapa Village for tickets
Beside the sign was a small circular opening in the rock, big enough to admit a dinghy. A pontoon floated outside it, and it looked like someone had begun building a ticket booth on it, but hadn’t yet finished the job.
“It can’t be,” Annalie said.
“Looks like it can,” Will said gleefully. “Who’s coming?”
“But shouldn’t we buy tickets?” asked Essie.
“Who from?” Will said. He was right—there was nobody about. “Come on. We’ll be in and out before anyone notices.”
They anchored the Sunfish at a safe distance in the bay, then took the dinghy in toward the cave entrance. Pod had to be persuaded to come with them—he said he wanted to stay behind to guard the boat, but eventually he confessed he didn’t like water-filled caves.
“Come on. It’s one of the wonders of the world,” Will said. “You can’t miss this.”
Will rowed them all toward the crevice, which looked dark and rather forbidding.
“Are you sure about this?” Essie asked. The swell was washing up and down; it seemed there was a chance they might get smashed into the rocks as they attempted to go through.
Will waited for his moment; the dinghy washed safely through the gap; and suddenly they were in a magical world. The cave opened up above them, huge and dark; all around, the water was glowing with a vivid blue light. It was strange, eerie, unearthly.
“What’s making that light?” Pod whispered, looking spooked.
“Who cares?” said Essie, gazing around her in delight.
“I could tell you the scientific explanation, but why spoil it,” Annalie said. “It’s so beautiful.”
“How can it still be here?” Essie asked.
“Some smart local must have made a new hole,” Will said appreciatively. “Good on them.”
“Pity no one’s ever going to get to see this, buried out here in the middle of the Islands,” Essie said.
Suddenly, the glow vanished.
“What’s happening?” Essie said, frightened.
“Look,” said Will, pointing back toward the entrance to the cave. Something was casting a shadow across it—an enormous shadow.
“What is that?” Annalie cried. “Could it be storm clouds?”
Will rowed the dinghy back toward the entrance. Cautiously they peered out through the gap.
Moored outside was something huge and white, so high it blocked the sunlight. It was a cruise ship.
Blue Water Princess
“What is that doing here?” Will cried, looking up the towering face of the ship. It had anchored behind the Sunfish, and dwarfed their tiny sailing boat.
A fleet of little boats started to appear from around the headland, where the town was located. The cruise ship blasted its horn in greeting, a huge sound that rolled out over the water, and the little boats honked and tooted in reply.
While most of them went whizzing over to the great cruise ship, one of them came over to the children’s dinghy and pulled up right alongside them. It was a small boat with a little motor on the back, with two ancient men in it, one steering, the other standing in the front.
“You want to see the Blue Room?” called the front man. “Very reasonable prices! I tell you all about the history. Quick, we take you in now, before the crowds!”
“Thanks,” Annalie said, “but we’re heading for the town.” It seemed prudent not to tell him they’d already been inside.
The man changed tack. “You need somewhere to stay? Go here, tell them Astos sent you, they give you very good rate.” The man leaned across the water to hand Annalie a card advertising a guesthouse and spice shop. “The best rooms, best views, very cheap. Try the spice cake!”
Then the second ancient man gu
nned the engine and they roared away to chase the rest of the little boats.
The cruise ship had released its own floating pontoon with a long companionway. The gates opened up on one of the ship’s main decks, and a great stream of passengers started tromping down to cluster on the pontoon while officers of the ship, dressed in shiny white uniforms, haggled with the people in the little boats. Soon, the passengers were clambering into boats, brandishing their shells to capture every moment.
The dinghy returned to the Sunfish, and the four of them watched the flotilla ferrying people from the cruise ship to the Blue Room and on around the headland to the town.
“What’s a cruise ship doing in the Moon Islands?” Will said. “I thought none of them came here anymore, because it was too dangerous.”
“I guess nobody told them,” Annalie said.
Will turned to Pod. “You ever see a boat like this in the Moon Islands before?”
“Yes,” Pod said. “Once. I need to get on there.”
“You can’t,” Annalie said. “They’d never let us on board.”
“The boat that took my sister looked like that. Maybe she’s on board.”
“Sorry Pod, but there’s no way you’ll get on that ship,” Annalie said.
“Yes there is,” Essie said. “You just have to act like you belong. I bet I could get you on board.”
Annalie turned to stare at Essie in astonishment. “Are you serious?”
“Trust me, it’ll be easy. Look how many people are getting on and off. If we go into town we can follow them on when everyone else is getting back on board the ship. Pod can ask about his sister, and then we’ll get off again. We won’t get into any trouble.” Essie looked at Pod, who was still wearing the ragged clothes he’d come aboard in. “We might need to get him something better to wear though.”
While Pod was tidied up and made presentable in some of Will’s clothes, they sailed around and anchored in the bay beside the town.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Annalie asked, as Essie and Pod were getting ready to climb into the dinghy. “What if someone questions you?”
“I’ll make something up,” Essie said.
“But what if he finds his sister?”
“We’ll take her with us,” Will said.
“But—” Annalie began, then gave in. “Be careful. And don’t take too long.”
* * *
Will, Pod, and Essie took the dinghy into town. They quickly separated so no one would see them together; Will went to buy supplies, while Essie and Pod followed the tourists. Essie was wearing her headset for the first time in weeks, colored lights twinkling. She checked her shell optimistically—still no signal. All around them tourists were wandering, looking very out of place: the rich of the new world poking around the ruins of the old world.
“Now what?” Pod said, tense.
“Now we act like everyone else,” Essie said.
They found a marketplace filled with stalls selling everything from spices and T-shirts to baked goods and ancient pre-Flood souvenirs. Essie bought Pod a T-shirt with the slogan, “Don’t be blue, see the Blue Room”, and made him put it on. For herself, she bought a souvenir necklace (also blue) and put that on. Then she bought them both a box of baby spice cakes, and headed back to the beach.
There, a white-uniformed steward was busy mustering boats for the passengers who were ready to return to the ship. Essie went up to him. “Hi,” she said brightly, “I think my parents went back already.”
“No problem,” said the steward, “the next boat’s leaving shortly.”
They went and stood with the rest of the passengers while they waited for another boat. Pod twitched and fidgeted until Essie had to remind him to relax and not look so suspicious. She held out her shell to an older couple who were standing nearby. “Could you take our picture?” she asked. The older man was happy to oblige, and Essie and Pod posed while the man took their picture. “Thanks!” Essie chirped, accepting her shell back.
The boat arrived then, and the passengers climbed aboard, Essie and Pod among them. Pod looked sick with nerves.
“What did you think of the Blue Room?” the older woman asked as the boat moved out.
“I thought it was lovely,” Essie said. “So blue.”
“It was blue,” the woman agreed. “Really lived up to its name.”
They smiled at each other and then returned to silence.
The boat tootled back up the coastline and the cruise ship loomed up ahead of them, huge and white. Essie read the name on the side: Blue Water Princess. She’d heard of the Blue Water line: there were a number of them, named aristocratically in order of size. The largest of them was the Blue Water Empress. Essie wondered briefly what they’d do for a name if they decided to build a bigger one.
At the pontoon, another officer stood with a checklist. Essie felt a tremor of nerves; this was where it could all go wrong. They climbed out with the others onto the pontoon and joined the queue.
The people in front of them gave their names, were ticked off the list, and allowed up the companionway. When Essie reached the officer in charge she said, “I don’t think I’m on your list. We weren’t going to come and then we changed our minds and it was all such a rush we didn’t get on the list.”
“Name?” the officer asked.
“Essie Kudos. And this is my brother Paul,” she said calmly.
The officer added their names to the bottom of the list. “I hope you enjoyed your visit,” he said, already turning to the next in line.
Essie walked up the companionway, fizzing with excitement, and then stepped onto the cruise ship itself. The decks were wide and sunny, with chic coordinating deckchairs and sun umbrellas as far as the eye could see. A series of swimming pools in interlocking shapes and different depths sent up an azure dazzle. People reclined in bikinis, in sunglasses, in shorts, in caftans, sipping cocktails or eating hamburgers or salads made with tiny prawns served in huge glasses. There were staff everywhere, fetching and carrying and mopping and serving. Restaurants, cafés, bars, and shops lined the pool area. It was a gorgeous, lustrous, floating world of consumption and pleasure.
And this had been Essie’s world until very recently. These people, the kinds of people who could afford a trip like this, were her people. Her father, the property developer, with his deals and his connections and his many business interests, had generated this sort of wealth and given his family this kind of life—until it all went wrong. Now her father’s empire was collapsing and her mother had gone off with a new rich man. Essie had no idea where she would fit in with their lives when she finally stepped off the Sunfish and returned home.
Looking at her luxurious surroundings, Essie felt so many conflicting things all at once it made her dizzy: how very lovely all this was; how wrong it was that a privileged few should live in luxury when so many more were so very poor; and how superior she felt knowing she was on a super-important secret mission; but mostly she felt how nice it was to be able to live like this and how sad she felt that that was probably all behind her now.
“Come on,” she said abruptly to Pod, “let’s see what we can find out.”
Nearby, they saw a young woman in a gray uniform appear with a mop and bucket to clean up someone’s spilled drink. When she was done she slipped away through a plain door marked Staff only. No admittance.
Pod watched this, then turned to Essie. “It’s probably better if I do this alone,” he said.
“Sure,” Essie agreed. “Meet me back here as soon as you can.”
Pod nodded, and followed the maid.
Outside on the deck, everything was painted a crisp, nautical white and blue, with accents of sunny yellow, but inside the service corridor was a dingy gray, lit with the cheapest lights. There was no natural light here. Pod hurried along it, knowing he shouldn’t be here, hoping he wouldn�
��t encounter anyone self-important enough to question him.
He caught up with the maid with the bucket. “Can you help? I’m looking for someone.”
The maid gave him a fearful look. “Ask a steward,” she said, and scurried away. Waiters pushed past him, carrying trays. He passed huge kitchens, banks of stoves, vast clean-up stations, and noticed that some of the workers scrubbing pots and scraping plates wore only a jacket over their normal clothes. Just past the kitchens, a row of hooks held some spares and he helped himself to one, dropping a jacket over his tourist T-shirt and rendering himself instantly invisible.
Another maid went past, and he followed her. “’Scuse me,” he said. “I’m looking for someone, I think maybe she works here. Can you help me?”
The maid looked at him in surprise, then beckoned to him to follow her. She took him into a cleaning station. It was filled with cleaning gear of all kinds, floor to ceiling, and another maid sat at a work station in the middle of the room, monitoring a scrolling list of jobs that needed to be done. The maid pushed Pod behind a high shelving unit, keeping him out of sight of the woman at the workstation, then dropped her bucket back in the bucket area. “Deck C122 clear,” she called to the woman at the monitor, then collected Pod and took him down to the back of the room, where a group of exhausted-looking maids were sitting on benches.
“You say you’re looking for someone?” the maid asked.
“Yes,” Pod said. “My sister. She went away to work on a boat that looked just like this one.”
“What’s her name?”
“Blossom.”
The maids all looked at each other as they mulled over the name, but eventually all of them shook their heads.
“How long ago was this?” one of them asked.
“Maybe a year ago,” Pod said.
“I’ve been here two years,” the first maid said, “I don’t know anybody called Blossom. You sure it was this boat?”
“It looked like this,” Pod said.
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